Happy Birthday, Selphie Tilmitt
by Dee Moyza
Summary: Selphie finds herself trapped in a boring meeting on her birthday. Desperate to get out and celebrate, her impulsive attempt at speeding up the proceedings unfortunately brings more trouble than celebration. An extremely silly one-shot in honor of Selphie's birthday (7/16).


_(Disclaimer: As a work of fanfiction, the creation of this piece does not imply ownership of the Final Fantasy franchise, its characters, or any affiliated intellectual property.)_

There was a lot to like about summer birthdays – warm weather, long days, picnics and beach parties and all-night bonfires. Problem was, those things weren't limited to birthday celebrations; in fact, they were often associated with vacation, which everybody seemed to demand at once. And so, Selphie Tilmitt, who had sworn back in April to put in a leave request for her birthday and promptly forgot to do so until last week, spent the better part of the day nodding off at a large glass table halfway around the world as a group of old guys in long robes and ridiculous hats debated the finer points of monster eradication with her colleagues.

Though she hated having to work on her birthday, she had momentarily brightened when she found out she was headed to Esthar for contract negotiations. At least she'd be able to pay Sir Laguna a visit, and she was willing to trade the biggest cake Ms. Moogle had in her bakery for a heaping helping of eye candy. But that was not to be, either, because Laguna – like half of the world's population, apparently – was also on vacation, and no one would tell her where. She interrogated Kiros for half an hour, but the man was unflappable, and only shook his head at her every question, the same patient, irritating smile on his lips.

She considered for a moment that Kiros might be covering for Laguna, and made a brief run for Laguna's office, only to be stopped by the soldiers at his door, both of whom had begun to refer to her by name.

"Give it up, Selphie," one of them said, his voice muffled under his creepy bug-like helmet. "Kiros was telling the truth."

"Uh-huh. Then why are you here?" Selphie angled her neck to peer around the soldier. "What are you guarding, if Sir Laguna's not in there?"

"His office."

"An empty office?" Selphie laughed. "Wow, Esthar really doesn't know what to do with you guys when there's no war to fight! What're you protecting? The desk?"

"Among other things."

"From what?"

"People like you."

"Sir Laguna's my friend. I wouldn't steal his desk, promise! Just let me have a peek. Pretty please?"

"No can do, Miss Tilmitt."

"No need to get formal. Selphie's just fi – yikes!" Selphie squeaked as two large hands closed around her arms and lifted her off the ground. She scowled up at Ward. "Hey, what do you think you're doing? I was wearin' them down!"

"Better luck next time, Selphie!" the soldier called, waving as Ward carried Selphie away. Ward set her down firmly in the elevator, then shook his head disapprovingly before activating the shield. Selphie pounded on the shield for a few seconds, as a matter of pride more than anything, before the elevator descended and she resigned herself to a Laugnaless stay in Esthar.

What a waste.

A waste of time, a waste of a birthday. Who knew if she'd get another?

She glanced to her left and saw Squall and Quistis, diligent as ever, taking notes, making offers, and trading questions with the Estharians. True SeeDs, they'd never let something as silly as a birthday keep them from doing their jobs. Selphie wondered if they'd even celebrated their birthdays before she arrived at Balamb Garden. It hadn't seemed like they had, and Squall was determined to keep it that way, grumbling and grousing through the small celebration she'd given him last summer. Quistis was more open to the idea, though she'd drawn the line – unequivocally – at receiving a special birthday dance from an all-too-willing Irvine.

Oh, well. At least Irvine had gotten a pair of sparkly underwear and a matching bow tie out of the deal. If only he wouldn't tell Selphie every time he wore them.

Selphie snapped back to attention when, as a unit, everyone around the table gathered their papers and tapped them together. Squall and Quistis pushed back their chairs and Selphie leapt to her feet.

"Whoo-hoo, finally!" she shouted. "Now get those butts in gear and head to the airstation! I've got a birthday to salvage!"

"We're not done, yet, Selphie," said Quistis, her professional façade giving way to weariness. "It's just a break. These gentlemen need to confer with their superiors."

Selphie flopped back into her chair, looking at the ceiling and groaning. "What's to confer about? We're SeeDs, we kill stuff. We take out monsters, they pay us, everybody's happy!"

"That is the gist of it."

"Then what's the holdup?"

"The payment part. They're paying us per monster, but can't agree on a price. Someone says all monsters should cost the same, someone else suggests price based on size and risk."

"How much longer do you think it'll take?"

"Only an hour or two, hopefully. Any longer, and we might need to adjourn for the day." Quistis sighed. "I'm sorry, Selphie. I know you wanted to celebrate. Perhaps we can go for a nice dinner this evening."

"Aww, thanks, Quisty. That's nice … but it's not really the same. Birthdays call for parties, and parties call for everyone! Without Rinnie and Irvy and Zell, it's just … dinner."

"I understand. The offer still stands, though, should you reconsider." She patted Selphie's shoulder and left the conference room.

Selphie slouched in her chair and took long sips from the glass of water in front of her, leveling her best death glare at the group of Estharian men whispering in the corner. None of them noticed, and Selphie had never been more envious of Quistis' Laser Eye than at that moment.

Everyone returned to the room, the meeting reconvened, and Selphie set sail for daydream-land once more. She checked in with reality periodically, and when the Estharians began arguing among themselves, she could've sworn she saw Squall roll his eyes. She tapped Quistis on the shoulder.

"What's the matter?" she whispered. "They still can't agree? Just tell them all monsters cost the same, and let's go!"

Quistis frowned at her. "We've moved past that, already. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"Nope! So, what are they squabbling about now?"

"Individual monster prices. Apparently, Imps are a tricky subject. Yes, they're lunar creatures, but they're not as strong as Toramas or Behemoths. This could take a while."

"I don't have a while," Selphie muttered. She stewed in her resentment for a few moments, tapping her foot beneath the table, before an idea slowly dawned on her. Someone had to put an end to this arguing, and get these contracts finalized; and since Squall and Quistis showed no initiative to do so, it was up to Selphie. She tapped Quistis again.

"Um, Quisty, have they sorted out the other monster prices?" she asked.

"Yes."

"So, it's just the Imp, then we're done?"

"Pretty much. Reviewing the terms shouldn't take too long."

"Great. In that case, I think I'll head out for a bit."

"Out?" Quistis drew her brows together.

"To get some fresh air."

"Selphie, it's the middle of a July afternoon in Esthar. The air is anything but fresh." Quistis flashed Squall and the Estharians an awkward grin, then glared at Selphie. "Just sit down. We're almost finished for the day."

"C'mon, Quisty. You don't need me here. I'm just the pilot. So can I go? Please? For my birthday?"

The Estharians stopped arguing and watched Selphie and Quistis' exchange intently. Quistis gave a nervous chuckle, then shooed Selphie away. "Oh, for goodness' sake, all right. Just be back by 17:00. And stay out of trouble!"

"Gotcha!" Selphie excused herself, then gathered her belongings and left the conference room, skipping down the hallway.

Stay out of trouble. Quistis' words echoed in Selphie's mind, and she laughed. Poor Quisty! So mature, yet so … trusting. Staying out of trouble had never done Selphie any good; all it did was make boring afternoons longer. If Selphie wanted out of Esthar before nightfall, she was going to have to meet trouble head-on, drag it back to the conference room, and shake those old Estharians right out of their silly hats.

She strode into the airstation hangar and boarded Garden's airship, then rummaged around her bag. She pulled out a small silver cylinder and pressed it to her forehead. An icy rush flooded her brain and adrenaline coursed through her veins as she reacquainted herself with Shiva. GF usage had become more controlled at Balamb Garden since Selphie and her friends defeated Ultimecia, and was reserved only for emergencies. Though she knew Squall would have something to say about her use of Shiva today, Selphie figured that the threat of dying of boredom on one's birthday certainly qualified as an emergency.

After a few moments, her hands and her vision steadied, and Selphie fastened her seatbelt and started up the airship. She would find an Imp on the plains outside the city and determine for herself just how much the monsters were worth, and the contract negotiations would finally be complete.

It didn't take her long to locate an Imp, and it took her even less time to dispatch it. Dragging it by the tail, Selphie huffed and heaved and loaded the dead monster into the airship, securing it in the co-pilot's seat and unjunctioning Shiva before taking off.

"You have a very important role, Mr. Imp," she said as the airstation came into view once more. "You're going to get me out of that meeting in time to have a real birthday. Too bad you couldn't do that alive. I promise, I'll be extra nice to the next Imp I meet, in your memory."

Selphie didn't look back at the trail of startled cries she left through the hangar and the airstation lobby, and she merely smiled and waved as Estharian citizens outside leapt out of her way. Though the flight had been short and climate-controlled, the sun and hot wind were taking their toll on the dead Imp, and it was beginning to smell.

Selphie breezed past the reception desk of the conference center where the meeting was taking place, and hopped onto an elevator before security could be alerted. The ride upstairs was rocky, though, since the Imp did not fit properly within the shield, and thus threw off the balance of the elevator platform, which dipped and swerved and struggled to ascend. When it reached its destination and shuddered to a stop, Selphie disembarked, and pulled the Imp along until she reached the conference room.

She poked her head inside to make sure the deliberations were still going on – they were – then took a deep breath and made her entrance.

"Booyaka!" she said, rushing in and slamming the door shut behind her. "Your troubles are over! I can tell you exactly how much an Imp will run you guys! This one's worth a birthday cake, at least!" She squatted, hoisted the Imp, and flung it onto the table. Squall cursed, Quistis jumped up, and the group of Estharians let loose with some of the highest-pitched screams Selphie had ever heard from men.

They backed away from the table, coughing and gagging and fanning the air in front of them, gesturing toward the Imp and talking among themselves.

"Selphie!" Quistis gaped at her. "What is the meaning of this? Get that thing out of here, now!"

"Not 'til they agree on a price. They've kept us here all afternoon, arguing over one thing or another, and I'm tired of it! We have lives, too! We have things to do, places to be, birthdays to celebrate!"

"Selphie." Squall glowered at her, his jaw set. "How did you get this Imp?"

"Killed it myself. How else?"

"Unjunctioned?"

"Of course not, I had Shiv– oops!"

Squall groaned and covered his eyes. "Selphie, are you aware of how many rules you've broken this afternoon?"

"I don't care! It was loads better than staying here, with these guys talking in circles and taking breaks to check with their superiors and stuff. If they don't have their matters in order, they shouldn't call us until they do!"

"Selphie, calm down." Quistis placed her hands on Selphie's shoulders, minimizing Selphie's gestures. "This is an important contract for Garden. We need to take our time to make sure the contract is solid."

Selphie bit her lip and looked up at Quistis, then at Squall, who shook his head.

"Besides," Squall added, "we already decided on a price for Imps."

"What?" Selphie cried.

"Yes, about ten minutes after you left," Quistis said.

"But … but it was such a big argument, I thought it would take longer, and … oh no, what have I done?" Suddenly, the idea that had seemed so brilliant in the boredom of the afternoon lost its shine when Selphie considered its futility. She sank to the floor and held her head in her hands.

She heard Squall and Quistis address the Estharians, and escort them out of the room. She heard the distinctive sounds of Quistis' Degenerator spell, followed by the squeaky wheels of a cleaning cart belonging to whatever lucky janitor got to clean Imp effluvia off the table. She heard security arrive, heard the words "arrest" and "fine" and "punishment," but didn't look up.

She definitely wouldn't see another birthday after this one.

Too bad it had been such a waste.

After a while, Selphie realized that she would not be sent to rot in an Estharian prison. Squall and Quistis had apparently assuaged security's concerns, because nobody moved to arrest her. Instead, they let her sit there, her only company an angry janitor, while security dispersed and they finished contract negotiations in another room. Time ticked on, the janitor left, and Selphie briefly wondered if she'd been abandoned in the conference center. She rose, and was halfway to the door, when it opened, and Quistis and Squall walked through.

"I can't say I'm pleased with you," Quistis said, drawing out a chair and motioning for Selphie to do the same. "Particularly since your little escapade has extended our stay in Esthar."

"What?"

"As of now, you are effectively under Balamb Garden disciplinary arrest," Squall said, "and you are prohibited from flying."

"We assured the security officers that your action would be dealt with as an internal Garden matter," Quistis clarified. "It was the only way to keep them from arresting you."

"What charges did they claim?" Selphie asked.

"Biological warfare via contamination of a closed space, unauthorized hunting of a lunar creature, endangering public safety, and general mayhem."

Selphie snickered at the last charge. That wasn't an infraction; that was her lifestyle.

"Is something funny?" Squall asked.

Selphie quickly sobered. "No, sir."

"You're still in serious trouble," he went on. "Engaging in unauthorized combat is a Level One infraction according to Garden Code. Unauthorized junctioning is a Level Two. Abandoning your post during a mission is a Level Four. Interfering with Garden Business is a Level Three. You'll be spending quite a while in the Disciplinary Room when we get back."

"But we'll ask Cid to let you work off what you can," Quistis added.

"Thank you." Selphie managed a weak smile. "I'm really sorry for what I did. I guess I kinda lost it."

"No 'kinda' about it. You did lose it." Quistis grinned.

"So, what happens now?"

"Now, we take our newly-minted contract and book some hotel rooms for the night. Zell's on his way to pick us up and fly us back in the morning."

"What a bummer birthday."

"I know, and I'm sorry. What do you say, though? Are you still up for that dinner I mentioned?"

"I guess."

"Good. Come on. Squall will join us, too." Despite Squall's objections, Quistis rose and guided both him and Selphie toward the door.

* * *

The table was far too big for only three people, and the extra room made Selphie miss her other friends even more. She picked at the appetizer in front of her, smiled politely at Quistis, avoided Squall's glares, and tried to think positive thoughts.

"You really fouled up, didn't you?" Irvine's voice cut through the quiet chatter in the restaurant. Selphie jerked her head up and saw him, Rinoa, and Zell standing a few feet away. "We could smell the stink you caused all the way in Balamb!"

"Irvy!"

"Don't listen to Irvine," Rinoa said, taking a seat next to Squall. "We must've been halfway here by the time you dragged that Imp into the conference room."

"Rinnie, Zell! What are you guys doing here?"

"Hey, it's your birthday, right? We're your party!" Zell reached out and plucked several pieces of food from Quistis' plate before sitting down.

"Yeah, but how did you …?"

"Quisty called us," Irvine said, looking over the menu. "She said you were feeling down, and if we could possibly get away from Garden, it'd make you happy. 'Course, she didn't know you were gonna get yourself arrested. Squall filled us in on that later."

"Quisty! When –"

"During our earlier break." Quistis smiled. "Happy birthday, Selphie."

The others echoed her sentiment.

Selphie clapped her hands to her cheeks, feeling the warmth of a growing blush. "Oh my gosh, thank you, everybody! Thank you so much! You all are the best friends anyone could wish for."

"You're still not off the hook," Squall said, though his mood had improved considerably since Rinoa's arrival.

"I know that. But it's nice to have one last hurrah before I gotta do my time!" Selphie looked around the group, beaming, but her smile faded as a pressing concern crossed her mind. "Hey, about our airship … if Zell was already out of Balamb by the time I got in trouble, who's gonna fly it back?"

Squall and Quistis groaned in unison.

"I suppose it'll have to stay here for a few days," Quistis said. "Cid won't be happy."

"I'm sure we can work this issue into Selphie's existing punishment," said Squall. Then, shaking his head, he gave a dry laugh. "Enjoy tonight, because you're gonna be paying for today for the next year."

Quistis nodded and laughed, then raised her glass. "Indeed. So, again, happy birthday, Selphie Tilmitt! You truly are one of a kind … and thank goodness for that!"

The End


End file.
